Rise Above Hate
by Roselyne
Summary: John Cena's refusal to embrace Hate forced Kane to rethink his strategy. If attacking Cena's friends is not enough, perhaps digging a hateful ghost from John's past might suffice.
1. Prolog

_Warning: _Before you proceed, just keep in mind that **English is NOT my mother language**. So there will certainly be mistakes in this text. Yet, I'm eager to improve, so if you see some corrections to make, don't hesitate to contact me :-)

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**RISE ABOVE HATE**

_**Prolog**_

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**Chesapeake Energy Arena, Oklahoma City – February 6th 2012.**

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« If _he_ comes for me », Wade's voice was barely a whisper, « run, Heath. Run for your life!"

Heath Slater felt a cold chill running down his spine as he was staring at the ring from an opening between two black curtains. He glanced back at his friend. Wade Barrett, like many other wrestlers, was now terrorized by the ring. To whoever thought they already experimented _fear_ in the past, it was probably nothing more than the classical monster-in-the-closet type of fear. You know there is nothing in the closet, yet, for some kind of sick fun, you double check. And you also make sure both your feet are under the blanket and that none will hang over the bed. Because you know that if a cold hand suddenly grabbed your ankle, you'd scream to death.

But when a particularly warm hand grabs your ankle and drags you into the pit of Hell, you start believing in the monster in the closet again. Except this time, you _KNOW_ that the monster is real. Because you _SAW_ what's inside the closet. And the only thought that desperately runs in your mind is a foolish hope that you'll never have to wander there again.

Kane hadn't shown up since the previous Sunday at the Royal Rumble. Since he got what he wanted. Wade was no use for him now. But it was said that demons always tend to come back.

They never let unfinished business. They never forget. They never leave a soul behind.

They always bring them home…

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**TO BE CONTINUED.**

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_I know I still have tons of other unfinished stories that would gladly accept some updates, but I had this weird dream last night, and felt I had to write it down before Royal Rumble._

_Hopefully, this story will be complete before next Sunday! ;)_


	2. Ch 1: The Last Man Standing

_Warning: _Before you proceed, let me remind you that **English is NOT my mother language**. So there will certainly be mistakes in this text. Yet, I'm eager to improve, so if you see some corrections to make, don't hesitate to contact me :-)

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**RISE ABOVE HATE**

_**Chapter One – The Last Man Standing**_

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**Scottrade Center - St. Louis, Missouri. - January 29****th****, 2012.**

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Everything had been so fine so far.

Wade had lifted Sheamus on his shoulders with the firm intention of wastelanding him over the top rope and getting rid of him in this so long awaited Royal Rumble. He had just made ONE mistake: forgetting about Randy Orton.

Oh, he shouldn't have blamed himself too much: the viper had faked his half-KO state extremely well, lying on the mat, just waiting for the most appropriate moment to strike. And Wade with Sheamus's weight on his shoulder had his guard off, and was completely opened for a few seconds. Enough for Orton to go into action. As fast as the lightning, Orton had jumped in the air, caught Wade's face in his hands, and in the same smooth movement, had RKOed both the Brit _and_ the Irishman. But he then neglected Sheamus in order to give his whole and undying attention his sworn enemy, remembering the pain he had suffered when he had quickly learned how to fly over steel stairs some weeks ago. He was willing to share his experience with Wade, and make him unable to wrestle for a long time, if not permanently. But first, his nemesis would travel through unexplored lands of pain.

Orton rolled Barrett with his foot so that the Brit would lie on his back, and then without any warning, he violently smashed his right foot on Wade's right wrist. Despite the crowd's cheer, Wade heard a bone breaking sound before he ever felt the pain. His howl was drowned in the ovation from the audience, fully behind Orton. The viper looked up in the air, as if he was listening to some inner voices, then he smiled. A smile that bode nothing good for his fallen opponent. He should have thrown Barrett over the top rope, but this was not enough. He had an unquenched thirst for revenge, and he had just begun. He walked to the other side of Barrett and in a swift movement, he jumped in the air and smashed his foot against Wade's left ankle. The resulting scream of agony was like music to his ears and his ferocious smile grew bigger.

As he was walking to Wade's right leg, Orton carefully kept an eye on Sheamus. The Irishman was slowly coming back to his senses. Oh, he wouldn't probably help Barrett, and would most gladly eat popcorns, watching Orton finishing his "amputation" dance with a punt in Barrett's skull. But you might never know. It was every man for himself, here. Alliances were short, and friendships were forgotten. Maybe Sheamus would realize that Barrett wasn't in the picture anymore and would rather attack Orton while he was busy, trying to eliminate first the strongest remaining opponent of the three.

And that's the mistake Orton did. Thinking they were only three left.

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Earlier in the match, as they had reached the critical number of 17 men in the same ring, Heath Slater had quickly estimated his chances of winning, and saw that they were extremely slim. Especially since Sheamus, Justin and Hornswoggle were apparently out for his blood. Every times he was trying to get rid of one, the other two would interfere and try to send him over the top rope. He had managed to evade from the three first attacks, but he knew there wouldn't be a fourth chance for him. So when they became so many in the ring that it was a total commotion and his opponents were busy now with other wrestlers, he checked all the possibilities and found only one solution: What Santino Marella had done during the previous year's edition of the Royal Rumble. Except that he had already decided that _HE_ would succeed.

In the global chaos, he let himself slip under the first rope after making sure that Scott Armstrong, one of the referees, was witnessing his action. He then quickly hid under the ring after screaming a couple of _"shut up!"_ to the WWE fans who were trying to warn the other wrestlers about his maneuver. And since then, he had stayed there, between the packs of water, the various weapons that would most probably be used in John Cena's match versus Kane, and the ring heavy structure itself. The dust was occasionally making him cough, and the metallic and slightly sulfured aroma in this closed environment was assaulting his nose, but his highest concern was that the ring wouldn't collapsed on him. Thanks God, Big Show and Mark Henry were scheduled in another match. But if a Tech crew mistake had happened once, it could happen another time…

With his hands on his ears against the deafening noise coming from above - and amplified in this sounding space that was the underworld of the ring - he had tried to pay a close attention and guessed how many wrestlers were left in the ring. Usually, the sudden cheers or boos from the crowd helped him to understand when someone, Heel or Face, had been eliminated from the rumble.

He was wondering if he should rise from his hidden place when there would only be two left. But he wasn't sure how the two survivors would appreciate his "cowardly" tactics. Maybe those two opponents – whoever they would be – would temporary forget about their "relationship problems" and ally against him, before going back into business.

No, another idea was coming in his mind: maybe he should wait for the music theme of the so-called winner to start, and attack from behind while that idiot of a man was celebrating. Total humiliation. Total Victory. The One Man Rock Band would become the last man standing in this year's Royal Rumble.

But his resolves vanished as he heard Wade's scream of agony. He knew the man all too well to be able to differentiate a faked scream from a real suffering. For a moment, a knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach. There surely had been an unexpected incident in the ring. His first reflex was to leave his hiding place and check for his friend, but he reminded himself that if Wade was indeed hurt, his opponent or the referees would quickly take the measures to avoid any further injuries. Himself wouldn't be of a great help. So despite his worries and instinct, he remained under the ring.

But as the second agonizing howl was heard after another blow, Heath knew that there was a problem, and he forgot about his former tactical decision. Since NXT, he had grown a liking on Wade. They had become real friends during NEXUS, and Wade had turned to be one of his closest friends during their time in THE CORRE, almost like a brother. And since Justin had decided to become his enemy, Heath was now considering Wade as his best friend. No matter how many times Wade publically treated him like the dumbest human being on Earth, Heath knew this was just Wade's twisted way of showing his affection.

So he wouldn't stay arm crossed while his best friend was obviously being tortured, and he quickly crawled from under of the ring, barely noticing that the strange sulfur aroma had started to increase in his hiding place.

It was actually a very good thing he had left.

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**TO BE CONTINUED.**

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_Thanks for your reviews everyone :)_

_So you like creepy atmospheres and chilling stories, apparently?_

_Fasten your seatbelt and behave! :D_


	3. Ch 2: Sacrifice

_Warning: _Before you proceed, let me remind you that **English is NOT my mother language**. So there will certainly be mistakes in this text. Yet, I'm eager to improve, so if you see some corrections to make, don't hesitate to contact me :-)

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**RISE ABOVE HATE**

_**Chapter Two – Sacrifice**_

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**Scottrade Center - St. Louis, Missouri. - January 29****th****, 2012.**

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As he stood, half blinded by the spotlight after his confinement in the dark, Heath Slater quickly evaluated the situation: Randy was standing near Wade, his back turned to him. Wade was turned on the other side, apparently holding his leg, with shaken breaths. Sheamus looked still half KO against the ropes but was reaching out for one of the ropes in order to sit. Orton hadn't seen him. Yet. He seemed to be focused on Wade and Sheamus. Most particularly on Wade as he stopped in front of his right leg. Heath saw the muscles in the Viper's back and legs contracted and he understood what was going to happen. If he wanted to do something, it was now or never.

Without thinking twice, Heath saw himself sliding under the rope as Orton lifted his knee; the One Man Rock Band leaped in the air as Orton jumped too, but before the Viper could land another painful blow on Wade's right ankle, he felt a strong grip on the sides of his head. Surprise was in his eyes for a flashing second before Heath smashed both of them on the mat in his finisher move, ironically a reversed version of Randy's.

Orton saw stars before his eyes as the pain in his head and neck was almost unbearable. For a moment, he lost track of where he was, and what he was previously doing. He felt a pair of hands lifting up from the mat, and helping him walk. His first thought was that some medic was there for him and he let himself be guided. It's only when he felt the ropes against him, that he suddenly realized something was wrong. But it was too late and someone particularly strong was throwing him over the top rope. He managed to catch one of the ropes but couldn't cancel de gravity on his body and both his feet hit the floor.

The Viper rolled on the floor, but when he casted a bewildered look towards the ring, all he could see was red hair. Sheamus? How could he have moved so fast from where he was sit, half-stunned? Then his brain came out with another detail: LONG red hair. He almost chocked when he saw who had defeated him. But as he leaped to the ropes again, in the purpose of destroying the West Virginian to pieces, two referees stopped him firmly. They had expected that kind of reaction from the Viper the moment he had stepped foot in the ring. Everyone knew how impulsive and lunatic he could be.

As Orton was dragged away from the ring, fuming and cursing, Heath crouched near Wade to examine the extension of his injuries. The Brit flinched at the contact of Heath's hand, probably dreading Orton. He opened his clear eyes, and settled his gaze on the last person he had expected there. First he didn't understand why Heath was there. Was the match over? Had he spaced out without realizing it? Was Heath interfering in his favor? One quick glance taught him that Sheamus was still in the ropes and slowly rising to his feet, and no referee was ordering Heath to leave the ring. That meant only one thing: he was still part of the match. He had most probably hid under the ring for awhile. Clever.

Heath followed Wade's gaze to Sheamus and made a quick evaluation the situation, before he looked back to his friend, and that's when it hit him: Wade knew he had been badly hurt by Orton. Oh, he could still stand, he could still fight, but – unless a miracle – he would never be able to defeat Sheamus now. The way the Brit was looking at him had a mixture of emotions. Heath recognized mostly regrets, sadness, and some bitter amusement… He understood: Wade knew he was not able to go on. But he accepted to give up. For him.

And for Heath, everything flashed in his mind. This was his chance. If he could throw Sheamus over the top rope now, Wade would have no other choice than to let himself be defeated. After months of humiliation since he had lost his tag-team champion belt, since the Corre had been destroyed and since Justin Gabriel had left him for the favor of the crowd, _this_ was his chance of a lifetime. He would probably never get such an opportunity again.

But the man beneath him, broken on the mat, had given everything to reach where he was now. Of course, a lot of other wrestlers could claim the same, but Wade's situation was due to months of hard work, and exposure to much more dangers and hate than he really deserved. To Heath, it was crystal clear: Wade should have been the winner of this Royal Rumble and continued his way toward WrestleMania. What Orton had just done to him, had unfairly broken his path.

Then something else came in Heath mind as he stared into Wade's green eyes. This was the man thanks to whom he was now working for the WWE, thanks to whom his dream had become true. This was the man who had jeopardized his career so that himself and the other NXT rookies would have the opportunity to enter the WWE. This was the man who had actually lost his job because he was loyal to his comrades.

This was his best friend.

A soft smile appeared on the One Man Rock Band's features. There were moments of choices, moments of transitions, and moments of revelations. He extended a hand toward his fallen friend.

"C'mon. Let's get rid of him".

Wade frowned, puzzled, and not fully understanding. He believed that Heath wanted them to associate against Sheamus, and that afterwards, the ginger would face him in memory of their memorable fight in NXT. That's something himself would have done. Yet, there was something in Heath eyes he could not decipher clearly.

And as he painfully stood on his feet, his left arm slightly held by his former Corre mate, two possible futures appeared in Wade's mind: Heath had just saved him from Orton. Without his ginger ninja, he would most likely be on a stretcher right now after a punt in the skulls, somehow glad to be unconscious so that he wouldn't feel the pain from his broken wrists and ankles. Without Heath, he would probably be out of competition for two or three months, at least. So he could thank him by associating himself with Heath against Sheamus in order to get rid of the Irishman. And when Sheamus would be eliminated, Wade would still fight for the honor, but accept to be eliminated by his friend. Heath would get his reward, his chance of a lifetime. Himself would perhaps have another chance later, when he'd have recovered from his injuries. This wouldn't be long, Heath had protected him from the worst. He'd get another chance soon. Perhaps. He could only hope.

So both men stood in the middle of the ring, facing Sheamus with the same sacrificial thought in their mind. The Irishman had partly recovered, but wouldn't be a match against the two of them. One on one, maybe, but two, never.

"Let's go".

With these words, Heath leaped forward, not looking at Wade, knowing that the Brit would have some delay, but would end up by his side. He reached Sheamus, ready to apply a clothesline to send him over the top rope, but Sheamus reacted quickly and threw his knee into the youth's midsection. Heath's breath was cut for a moment under the sudden pain. He staggered on his feet, eyes closed and coughing, noting the same sulphur aroma he had smelled while under the ring. But he wasn't panicking. Wade was going to be there in a second.

Even when he felt Sheamus grabbing him, he didn't panic. Wade was going to interfere, for sure. It's only when he felt the top rope on his lower back that Heath realized something was wrong. He opened his eyes and saw the spotlights of the arena. He struggled against Sheamus' hold, and grabbed the ropes under him, but his momentum was playing against him. Still, Wade could have interfered, but nothing happened from there. Sheamus passed an arm under the youth's legs and pushed him over the top rope.

In reality, the attack and the counterattack had only lasted three seconds. But for Heath, it seemed like an eternity had passed; an eternity during which Wade could have come for help. And as his hands finally let go of the rope, under the torsion of his arms, he only felt two things: betrayal, and disappointment. And as he hits the floor with his knee before rolling on himself, a thought crossed his mind: maybe he should have taken the time to explain his plan to Wade. Maybe they didn't have the same connection as before, when no word was necessary between them to do an action. Nexus and The Corre were over. They were like strangers. It was sad.

And then, Heath felt some anger: maybe Wade had been his usual self: betraying as breathing. But this time, his chess player brain had miscalculated the situation. Letting his ally being eliminated y a strong opponent while himself was injured, was not the brightest idea of the century. Because now, nothing would stop Sheamus from becoming victorious. Still on the floor, holding his knee, Heath bared his teeth with bitterness: for a friendship that obviously existed only in his head, he had wasted his only chance to make an impact and leave the limbo where he had been thrown since the death of The Corre. The bright future was gone. It was over.

At that moment, he heard Wade's scream, and almost laughed. The Brit was probably realizing his tactical mistake now that he was painfully facing Sheamus.

He _almost laughed_, because he was on his feet before he could stop himself. Like a faithful wolfhound.

Something was wrong in this scream.

It wasn't just a scream of pain, or rage.

What the One Man Rock Band had also heard, was pure terror.

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**TO BE CONTINUED.**

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So you love creepy ? It's not over yet :P

**Thanks** to M.j's place, NYCUtopia, MissHumanoidTyphoon, WWE-slash-luvee, Failed To De-anon, AllieDoll, J4M3Z XO, CenaRKO1986 for taking the time to leave a **review** :) At least I know you love the plot as it progresses ;)

And C'mooooon, **Heath** could totally **win a Royal Rumble**. He has the techniques & charisma needed to be in the Main Event when he's not asked to lose to weaker people in need of a spotlight. And with a well constructed storyline, the crowd would totally buy it and cheer for him! ;)

But it's ok, we can open a debate. Don't forget also to leave a note regarding what you thought about this chapter ;-)

**Merry Christmas to all :-)**


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